


some kind of madness

by spaceconspiracy



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, One Shot, hanji goes by they/their, i played off the hanji ships it trope im sorry, if i remmeber correctly this was inspired by a Vine but i have no hope of finding said Vine, lots of levi-hanji brotp, the working title for this was handyman eren and thats all thats important, too many pop-culture references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-26
Updated: 2014-10-26
Packaged: 2018-02-22 15:42:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2513003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spaceconspiracy/pseuds/spaceconspiracy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Levi never thought he’d have a thing for sweaty handymen with dark hair and eyes from a Tiffany & Co’s catalog, straight cut 16 carat emerald, until it was right here in front of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	some kind of madness

**Author's Note:**

> Wow I actually finished somethiHN G? It’s a god damn miracle.  
> I don’t think any like forewarnings are necessary because this is just a cute cliche AU I churned out in like two days because I needed it and well here we are.  
> I guess the only thing would be that as a sex-repulsed asexual writing like attracTIOn is kind of hard for me so sorry if it’s not as steamy as you’re expecting it to be? JUs tknow Eren is incredibly hot and Levi is incredibly weak to him. Also no smut, sorry folks.  
> Graciously named after Madness by Muse because I headcanon that Muse is Levi’s favourite band (and I couldn’t think of anything else)

What started off as a quick trip to Home Depot to find some paint ended up starting a nightmare Levi’s sure he’s never going to get out of.

In hindsight, he should have expected something to go terribly terribly wrong the moment Hanji stepped inside, inhaled deeply, and said, “I could stay in this place forever.” In fact, he should have just _left_ them there. Forever. More accurately, he shouldn’t have even dragged either of them there at all, but when you have friends that party too hard, accidents happen. Leave it to Erwin Smith to smash two vases, break a mirror, and _chip the paint_ on Levi’s otherwise immaculate living room wall. After only a couple of beers, too. Fucking lightweight.

Levi just wanted to find a can of paint to fix the chip in his damn wall that actually _matched_ because believe it or not, being partially colour-blind actually hinders your life somewhat, so that’s why he roped Hanji into this. Even with their shitty glasses, they’re probably better at, well, colour palettes (to get really gay about it) than he is. He just doesn’t want it to be obvious that there was once a giant gash in his wall from a lamp gone wayward. Fuck you, Erwin.

Things were going great at first - Hanji went right to the endless rows of paint cans and started selecting those colour samples from a wall of them. But then they said, “Ooh, this is a pretty colour,” and Levi just _knew._

It went from “Let’s just repaint!” to “Let’s renovate the entire living room!” in a span of three seconds.

So here is, insisting for the millionth time that neither of them have the _money_ for a renovation of anything, let alone an entire living room. Word from the wise: never share an apartment with your best friend. It doesn’t matter how close you are, it’ll tear you apart anyway.

“Le- _vi_ ,” Hanji whines. “We don’t have to make it really fancy or anything, just a change! It would be nice, we could make it themed. What about some kind of underwater theme-”

“You’re off your goddamn rocker if you think you think I’m allowing you to put fish in my living room.”

“But what if they’re hand blown glass sculptures?”

“They could be the prettiest fish you’ve ever seen in your life, but they’d still just be fish.”

“Fine,” Hanji pouts, sliding a palette card called ‘Deep Blue Sea’ back into its holder. “What about outer space-”

“Hanji,” Levi sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “We can repaint but I’m drawing the line at renovation.”

“But you can’t paint the wall an entirely new colour and not have furniture to match,” Hanji says matter-of-factly.

“Then pick a colour that matches our furniture.”

“But all of our furniture is beige.”

“Then pick beige.”

“Aw, you’re never any fun,” Hanji pouts, but puts away all the colour samplers anyway. “If we can’t change the living room, can we do the kitchen?”

“God, you never quit, do you,” Levi huffs. “Sure, we can get some light fixtures to replace that ugly ass bulb in our kitchen. But that’s it.”

Hanji grins.

 

~X~

 

After standing in an aisle full of blinding lights for a solid hour, speaking to three different employees - to get their _opinion_ \- and trying to decide between circle or square, Levi finally manages to drag Hanji out of Home Depot with a new fixture for their kitchen and three cans of _rosewood_ paint (it’s fucking red) for Levi’s poor living room. As far as he’s concerned all of this is coming out of _their_ pocket, not his.

Hanji’s ready to break out the paint the moment they get home, but Levi had a long night at work because everyone’s losing their shit over the great Ebola Scare of 2014 and he had to deal with every little coughing old lady and rich business man that made their way through the ER doors. Not to mention that they have him scheduled for graveyard shift tonight. Woe is him.

“Okay,” Hanji relents after Levi’s fifth ‘Hanji, I’m not painting today I’m tired as shit’. “But I’m putting in the light.”

“Fine,” Levi waves a hand. “Have fun, I can’t reach that shit anyway.”

“We have a stepstool,” Hanji offers, but Levi ignores them completely to throw himself on their oh so very beige couch to immerse himself in an episode of _Masterchef_ , because if that dick Cutter says “Well that’s _your_ opinion” one more fucking time . . .

Not twenty minutes in the episode, and he’s hearing a faint crashing sound from the direction of his kitchen. He stares mournfully at the TV for several more seconds before standing up with a sigh. “Oi, Hanji, you didn’t get yourself killed, did ya?”

“No,” Hanji calls back. Levi contemplates leaving them to go back to _Masterchef_ but gives in with a sigh, figuring that if Hanji really fucked shit up he better just deal with it now. When he walks into the kitchen, he sees Hanji flat on their back, an arm thrown over their face. There’s a fine layer of white dust covering them.

“You okay?” he raises an eyebrow at them, nudging their leg with his foot. Their glasses sit askew on their face, but they make no move to adjust it.

Hanji just points to the ceiling and Levi regrets looking up before he even does it.

“How the fuck,” he starts, but can’t even finish the sentence. What he means to ask is, _how the fuck do you create a hole the size of a fucking Pluto in our ceiling_ , but he’s too busy staring at it in shock and horror to get the words out.

“I read the instructions wrong,” Hanji says by way of explanation, and none of it makes any damn sense to Levi, all he knows is that he’s going to have to pay for that.

“Holy shit,” Levi says, the weight of it finally hitting him. “Holy shit, we have a fucking hole in our ceiling.”

“We should call somebody.”

“You think,” Levi snaps, but feels a little bad for it when Hanji screws their face up guiltily. Only a little.

“Ooh, I bet Moblit knows somebody,” Hanji says, referring to their long-term, nerdy as shit boyfriend who does one thing or another in construction, before they hop to their feet quickly, fixing their glasses. They recover quickly. “I bet he can get us a discount.”

“We’ll deal with that shit tomorrow,” Levi rubs his forehead, before kicking at a stray piece of what he thinks was once part of the ceiling. “Just sweep this shit up. I’m finishing my show.”

“There’s a gaping hole in our kitchen and you’re still going to finish _Masterchef_?” Hanji pauses. “Is Cutter still there?”

“Unfortunately.”

 

~X~

 

“So, bad news,” Hanji says the next morning the minute Levi gets home from work. He looks at them with tired eyes, wanting nothing more in the world than to strangle the fuck out of them but not having the energy to even twitch his hand. They don’t even give him a minute to ask what the bad news _is_ , before charging forward. “Moblit only has one friend that handles this sort of thing and he’s out with a nasty cold. Worse news, our upstairs neighbours reported the crash to our landlord because apparently our noise complaints are too frequent as it is. So he stopped by.”  
  


“Shit,” Levi says.

“Yeah,” Hanji agrees. “But he told me that he has a private contract with somebody, so they’re sending a repairman up here at noon. But I have to work, which means you have to be awake to let him in.”

“You’re shitting me,” Levi says in the vain hope that Hanji really is fucking with him and that he won’t have to wake up after only 3 hours of sleep.

“Also we have to pay for it.”

“I hate you.”

“If you hated me, you’d have kicked me out,” Hanji points out, even though that would’ve been totally illegal considering they co-signed the lease. That probably wouldn’t have stopped Levi, to be honest.

“Fine, whatever, okay,” Levi waves a hand, trudging towards the bathroom to wash off an entire night of drunk assholes and panicked mother’s in pajamas clutching their snot-nosed kids. “I’ll be up at noon.”

“You better be,” Hanji sing-songs in reply.

 

~X~

 

Levi wakes up at exactly 12:04 to the sound of knocking on his front door.

He feels like he had a pickup truck backed over his entire body, and it takes him three or so minutes with increasingly frequent knocking to remember that there’s in fact a giant ass hole in his kitchen ceiling and he better answer the damn door to get that shit fixed. It takes him thirty more seconds to muster up the strength to get out of bed.

“Shut up, I’m coming,” Levi calls to the door when the knocking starts again and after stifling a yawn, opens the front door.

_Holy fucking shit._

Levi never thought he’d have a thing for sweaty handymen with dark hair and eyes from a Tiffany & Co’s catalog, straight cut 16 carat emerald, until it was right here in front of him. He hasn’t seen anyone nearly _this_ hot since college, and this kid definitely gives everyone else a run for their hard-earned money.

And then there’s Levi, having just woken up from a 3 hour nap that barely qualifies as any type of _sleep_ , probably looking more akin to an extra from _The Walking Dead_ than anything human.

Ah, shit.

“Uh, hey,” the repairman says awkwardly, Levi still staring at him. “This is number 104, right? I’m looking for,” he looks down at a piece of paper clutched in his hand. “Mr. Ackerman?” He squints at the name. “Weird, that’s my step-sister’s last name.”

“Common name,” Levi thaws himself out. “Yeah, come in, you’re late.”

“It’s barely ten past 12,” the guy says defensively but steps inside anyway. Levi isn’t even mad when his shoes leave dirt marks on his perfectly vacuumed carpet.

“You were supposed to be here at noon.”

He stares at Levi for a long moment before breaking into a dazzling smile, and honestly nobody’s teeth should be that nice. “You’re funny.”

Not a lot of people are capable of catching on to Levi’s sense of humour. He’s a little impressed. “Did Rico fill you in,” Levi asks, referring to the landlord, as he shuts the door. He has to take  a breath before he’s ready to face Mr. Very Attractive Handyman again; when he does, the damn brat’s looking at him with those off-green-blue-what-the-fuck-even eyes. Levi averts his gaze quickly, noticing the rusty toolbox clutched in the guy's left hand. That’s not enough to fix a ceiling, Levi thinks.

“Nope,” the kid says. Poor guy. Levi really should warn him. “Oh, I’m Eren by the way.”

Nice name. “Levi.”

“Nice to meet you, Levi,” Eren says, still flashing that wide grin. “So, what’s the damage? Leaky pipe, faulty light. Hey, that rhymed.” He looks a little pleased with himself. How adorable.

“Here,” Levi answers, stepping past Eren to lead him to the kitchen. Almost in an automatic response, Levi goes to flick on the light before remembering that Hanji completely destroyed it.

Eren’s gaze goes from staring in confusion at the mess on the floor that Hanji was supposed to sweep up, to slack-jawed awe at the hole in the ceiling. It could just be his imagination, but Levi’s pretty sure it got even bigger.

“What happened?” Eren asks after it sinks in.

“I have an idiot for a roommate.”

“Wow,” he says, then looks at the toolkit still in his hand. “I’m going to have to come back.”

 _Oh, no,_ Levi thinks.

Eren rubs the back of his head with his hand, and scrunches up his face. It’s so fucking cute Levi’s teeth ache. “I’ll take some measurements, I guess, and then head out for some plywood. I could probably have it done by,” he hesitates, then looks at the ceiling again. “Maybe two days. Wait -” he squints. “Oh, was that a light fixture?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll have to rewire that. I’ll have it done by the end of the week.”

Levi’s not so sure he’s ready to have this kid banging around his ceiling during ungodly hours (well, ungodly for him) for the rest of the week, but one more glance at Eren’s Academy Award winning smile and he knows, without a doubt, that he’s completely and utterly _fucked._

~X~

 

Eren left with the promise of  “I’ll be back tomorrow!” which just tears Levi in half, because on one hand he gets to see Eren again in all his long-legged glory, but on the other, there will no doubt be the grating sounds of hammers and drills and other annoyingly loud things and Levi hasn’t slept more than three hours in the past two days. Not that he gets that much sleep _anyway_ , but it’s the principle.

In fact he’s not woken up in the morning by the bright sun shining through the blinds that _really should be closed_ , but the sound of a drill revving up. He drags a pillow over his hand and groans into the comforter, wanting more than anything to be asleep once more, but knowing that it’s futile to even attempt to get back to that dark bliss, so he drags himself out of bed and into the kitchen.

Lo and behold, there’s Eren, standing on a short ladder with a drill in one hand and nails caught between his teeth. He stops what he’s doing when he sees Levi, widening his eyes and lowering his arm. He takes the nails out of his mouth with his free hand. Gross.

“Did I wake you up?” Eren asks, sounding apologetic. Levi just stares at him from the hallway. He’s not really angry about being woken up as much about the fact that Eren’s still looking like some sort of son of the sea god with those green-blue eyes all big, while he’s more than just an extra from _The Walking Dead_ and has graduated to full-fledged main character. _Good job, Ackerman._

“Yes,” Levi says, because he doesn’t lie.

“Oh, shit, I’m sorry,” Eren looks a bit like a kid getting caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Hanji told me not to but,” he revs the electric drill to emphasise his point. “There’s only so much I can do.”

“It’s fine,” Levi tells him. “Just don’t say anything to me for ten minutes.”

“Got it - oops,” Eren sticks the nails between his teeth again to shut himself up, gives Levi a sort of warped smile, and starts the drill up again. Levi just wants to get his coffee and get the hell out of there, but his coffee maker is right there on the counter, and Eren’s also _right there_ and unfortunately for Levi the ladder only adds to the height gap he faces with _everyone_ , and needless to say he’s not ready to put himself into any compromising situations where faces are anywhere near places they shouldn’t be.

So he stands there for several more minutes, contemplating making a dive for his fridge, and avoiding watching Eren work before giving up completely and treading to the living room to throw himself on the couch and give himself the illusion that maybe if he watches _Masterchef_ with subtitles, Cutter won’t seem like as much of a douche on steroids.

He ends up getting so pissed off at the subtitles that he switches to _Ink Master_ halfway through, which isn’t really any better because Joshua: King Douchebag is still around. Levis in the first ten minutes of the second episode, staring bitterly at the screen and thinking about how pissed he’d be if that fucked-up tattoo was on his body, when Eren walks in.

“I finished putting in the plywood, so I’ll start the sp - oh, I love this show,” he says, looking away from Levi. As he does, Levi observes a bead of sweat dripping down his temple. It’s gross, but also kind of hot. Levi hates this fucking handyman.

“Do you want something to drink,” he asks, suddenly.

Eren looks surprised, but nods. “Yeah, some water would be great.”

When Levi returns from the kitchen (after stopping to admire the fact that the hole in his ceiling doesn’t look so bad now that there’s some wood up there instead of the void), a full glass of water in his hand, he sees Eren’s taken it upon himself to take a seat on Levi’s couch, staring intently at the screen.

“Emily’s not even that great of an artist,” Eren comments, before a look of guilt passes over his face and he stands up. “Sorry.”

“Emily’s a shit artist,” Levi agree, ignoring Eren’s apology and placing the glass of water on the coffee table before returning to his seat on the couch. Eren stares at him in confusion for a few seconds before sitting back down.

“Yeah,” he says. “She’s all talk.”

“Hm.”

They don’t say anything to each other for the rest of the episode, although Levi is painstakingly aware of Eren’s presence the entire time. It’s probably incredibly unprofessional for Eren to stay there just to watch _Ink Master_ , and if he was anyone else, Levi would’ve complained to the landlord without any shame whatsoever.

When it’s over, Eren stands back up. “I should probably go.” Levi just nods.

When Eren leaves, Levi sits there and contemplates his existence, deciding that he's gotten himself into a bigger mess than he meant to.

 

~X~

 

“I wanted to be a tattoo artist,” Eren tells Levi the next day while squinting at the wires poking out of the ceiling. “But my dad said it wasn’t a real job, so I’m doing this instead.”

“That’s bullshit,” Levi says from where he’s seated at the bar counter. “Do you know how much money those assholes can make in one day? More than I do.”

“What do you do exactly?” Eren asks with a laugh, looking away from the ceiling. From a distance, Eren’s eyes look more than green than blue, which just fucks Levi all up.

“I’m an ER nurse,” Levi says around his coffee mug, eyeing Eren carefully.  

Eren blinks at him. “Like, _Winnie the Pooh_ scrubs ER nurse?”

“My scrubs are sensible,” Levi says, offended.

Eren laughs again. “That explains your weird sleep schedule. I just thought maybe you were one of those nocturnal people by choice. My sister’s like that.”

“Your sister’s fucking weird.”

“True,” Eren nods, going back to stare at the ceiling. “Hanji really fucked this up. Oh, sorry,” he flushes. “Messed this up.”

“You can say fuck, it’s my favourite word,” Levi says. It’s the best word he’s heard Eren say so far, to be quite honest. He’d love to stick around and hear Eren say it again but the brat promised him no more loud noises today (what a damn shame) and he has to actually be an adult and squeeze in a couple hours of sleep before his shift tonight. He’s not too glad about missing out on admiring Eren in general, but such is life.

“Okay,” Levi stands up. “Don’t be loud, I have to sleep.”

 

“I’ll try my best,” Eren says, and then he _winks_ and Levi has to get the hell out of there before he really gets thrown off track.

 

~X~

 

By Saturday, Eren has the hole in the ceiling almost entirely unseeable, as if it never happened, the light fixture Hanji so adored situated properly, lights working and everything. Levi regrets it a little.

“Alright,” Eren says, giving Levi one of those smiles that completely murder him. “All patched up. Just paint around the fixture and you’re good to go.”

“Ooh, you’re so great,” Hanji cries, throwing an arm around Eren’s shoulders. “We’ll have to break more stuff to invite you up here again, right, Levi?”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Levi threatens, making Hanji laugh loudly.

Hanji’s got the eyes of a hawk, even with thick-lensed glasses, and they don’t miss the way Levi stares after Eren woefully as he leaves with little more than another one of those grins and a small wave. They make it very clear they’re onto Levi the moment the door shuts, “So did you get his number?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Levi scoffs, walking to the kitchen to admire Eren’s handiwork.

“Oh come on,” Hanji rolls their eyes, following him. “You can play the not-interested facade all you want, I can totally tell you have the hots for the maintenance guy.”

“You’re full of shit.”

“No, you are,” Hanji counters easily. If it was anyone else, faces would’ve gotten punched for sure.  “You’re so awkward, it’s adorable. You could just go call him back inside. Share a glass of wine with him.”

“He doesn’t drink,” Levi remembers from the conversation they had yesterday during another episode of _Ink Master_ (after all the rewiring was done of course. Of course.). There wasn’t much more said than their first encounter with bad reality TV together, but in that brief conversation he discovered Eren’s about as repulsed with alcohol as Levi is with mold.

“Not interested, hmm?” Hanji sing-songs sarcastically

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Come on,” Hanji whines “He’s cute, you’re - well I’m sure he thinks you’re cute -”

“You are the worst friend I’ve ever had.”

Hanji continues as if Levi hasn’t said a word, “- and this is the first time I’ve ever seen you with actual goo-goo eyes over someone. Go get him, tiger.”

“Please don’t ever apply the words _goo-goo eyes_ to me ever again or I’m kicking your ass out,” Levi puts a  hand on his temple.

“Also,” Hanji stresses. “He’s presumably at least eighteen, considering -”

Levi screws up his face, “Oh god, don’t do this to me.”

Hanji flashes a smile. “Don’t worry I already asked. He’s nineteen.”

Levi’s a more relieved than he has any right to be. “Doesn’t matter,” he says offhandedly. Hanji sighs and doesn’t say anything else, but he can tell from the gleam in their eyes that they aren’t going to let this go.

 

~X~

 

It’s a little lonely during the days when Hanji can’t work and Levi’s insomnia gets the best of him. Everyone that he even considers himself to be acquainted with have _normal_ work schedules, unfortunately for him, and _Ink Master_ isn’t the same without a certain green-eyed maintenance man to agree with him on which artists are shit.

Which is stupid, Levi is stupid.

In his great, grand, carefully PowerPoint outlined defense, there’s not a lot of people on this God forsaken planet that he can actually _tolerate_ so when he finds one of those rare ones, he’s not hugely fond of letting them get out that door so easily.

But he’s a proud, proud man.

So proud in fact that he’d sooner shove a fork down his garbage disposal than actually tell the damned brat he has some sort of schoolyard crush. Which is just so fucking pathetic.

Not as pathetic as _actually_ shoving a fork down his garbage disposal, however.

Which he most certainly isn’t going to do.

Not at all.

Besides he just washed all of the dishes, and Hanji has this really nice silverware set from their parents with fancy floral patterns embedded in the handles. In fact that one right there is their favourite. It’d be the biggest shame if something were to happen to it. The biggest damn shame.

Levi taps his fingers against the counter top, staring at place mat where all the dishes are drying and trying very, _very_ hard to convince himself that he’s not that some rom-com idiot who will go to extensive measures just to get Eren to show up at his door again. Of course not, he’s better than that.

_Don’t do it, Ackerman._

The fork is already in his hand. He stares at it, hating everything about himself. He’s being so childish.

Just then, the doorbell rings, scaring the utter shit out of him; the fork slips from his grasp and in a stroke of pure bad luck heads right down the drain like it’s digging itself its own great. “Son of a bitch,” he mutters to himself, staring down the drain. It could just be him, but he’s pretty sure the fucking thing is mocking him.

The doorbell rings again and he goes to answer the door, a bit annoyed. As soon as he opens it, any irritation melts away completely because there’s Eren standing there like he was summoned merely from a fork taking a one-way trip down the sink. _That was fast._

“Hey,” Eren says brightly -it cuts right into Levi’s ice cold heart. “Hanji told me your AC was making a -” he knits his eyebrows together, as if trying to remember something. “‘Clanky’ noise.”

“The AC’s fine,” Levi says before he realises what he’s doing. _Holy shit, Hanji fucking staged this shit, didn’t they?_ Now he doesn’t feel the least bit guilty about sending their favourite utensil to pipe drain hell.

“Oh,” Eren flushes a dark red colour.

“There’s a fork in my garbage disposal,” Levi says flatly.

Eren stares at him. Levi stares right back.

“Okay,” Eren smiles eventually. “Let’s get that out.”

Levi thinks that after the fork is rescued from it’s tubed prison, he’ll stab himself in the jugular with it.

“Don’t worry,” Eren tells him when they get to the kitchen. “This won’t take as long as the ceiling.”

“A shame,” Levi mutters without really meaning to; Eren looks at him in surprise and Levi keeps his face carefully blank. A faint voice in the back of Levi’s head that sounds suspiciously like Hanji is going _hell yeah_. He hopes the fork is destroyed.

Eren’s quick about dismantling the piping beneath the kitchen sink, leaving levi to stand there in the kitchen and get a full frontal view of the way the hem of his shirt rides up at the waist and _shit._ He’s all golden tan skin. Son of a bitch probably tans in his free time.

Levi needs a long drink of cold water.

Levi’s so focused on that bare inch of skin that when Eren goes, “Ow, shit!” he’s caught entirely off guard.

“Yo, you okay?” Levi asks as Eren  draws himself out from beneath the sink, a palm pressed to his forehead. When he pulls it away it’s slicked with blood.

“I hit my head,” Eren says a little bemusedly. Fuck, that’s cute.

“Shit,” Levi says. “Okay, get your ass up here, hold still.”

Eren stands, wobbly on his feet, his palm pressed to his head again. Levi pulls his hand away by the wrist, replacing it with the cleanest dishrag he could find in the nearest vicinity (which of course mean it’s spotless). He tries to ignore Eren’s eyes on his face as he examines the wound.

“You won’t need stitches,” he informs him. He fetches the first aid kit from a nearby cupboard, popping it open to remove alcohol swabs and an old-fashioned bandaged that’s not entirely ideal for the situation, but will have to make do.

“Hold still,” he instructs, tearing open an alcohol packet with his teeth.

“That stings,” Eren complains as Levi dabs at the cut on his forehead.

“Don’t be a baby.” Levi wrinkles his nose. Even as an ER nurse, he’s still not entirely cool with the sight of blood. It’s a woe that gets him teased at work mercilessly.

After Eren’s cleaned up, fresh bandage applied to his head, and not showing any real signs of a concussion, Levi steps back. Being that close to Eren takes its toll on a person.

“You feelin’ alright?” Levi asks to distract himself.

“Yeah,” Eren answers, touching the bandage on his forehead. “Thanks, nurse.”

“Hm.”

In the end, Hanji’s fork isn’t entirely obliterated (the real shame here) and Eren’s on his way out the door far too soon.

 

~X~

“We should have Eren help us paint!” Hanji says the next day, arm full of tarps to lay down and paint cans open and waiting. “I bet he’s really good at it. And since you didn’t jump on the AC opportunity,” they say the next bit a little bitterly. “This is my chance to get him back in here.”

“You need to stop watching _Millionaire Matchmaker_ ,” Levi informs Hanji, frowning into the paint can. Partially colour-blind or not, he’s pretty sure this shade of red doesn’t match his furniture at all.

“I’m _serious_ ,” Hanji huffs. “Well, I’m calling him down, whether you plan to ask him out or not.”

Levi makes no move to stop them, which he thinks says a lot about him as a person. He’s also at the door the minute he hears the first knock, which he also thinks says a lot about him. Eren has an endless supply of smiles that won’t ever run out, and hands Levi a particularly dazzling one when he sees him. If Levi was one to have his breath stolen, he’s sure it would’ve been long gone by now.

“Hanji said you’re finally painting,” Eren say by way of greeting, holding up a bucket full of dirty brushes and paint rollers. Of course he has all of those.

“Eren!” Hanji greets; Levi steps aside to allow Eren inside. Really, wearing a white shirt was a bad idea on Eren’s part; except, he it does bring out the tan of his skin and the green of his eyes, which just makes Levi’s chest ache.

“I brought some useful stuff,” Eren says to Hanji, setting his collection of brushes on the tarp-covered coffee table. “This will make it easier.”

Hanji looks at their measly little hand brush mournfully.

Levi’s all for letting Hanji and Eren do all the grunt work - it’s not like he could get those hard to reach corners even if he wanted to - but he caves and is meticulously laying out the last bits of primer on the floorboard when suddenly there’s a cool splatter of _something_ on his face. Hanji and Eren, who have been talking incessantly this entire time about Eren’s tattoo career that never took off, go silent.

Levi looks over at them; they’re both looking immensely guilty. Levi puts a hand to his face and draws it away, the slick red of paint smeared on his fingertips. Eren and Hanji hold their breath as Levi stares at it, looks at them, and then walks over to where the paint can is open and waiting.

“Levi,” Hanji starts, but by the time the last syllable is out, they, and Eren, of course, because those that commit crimes together serve time together), have a fresh face mask of red paint splattered all over their faces.

“That’s dangerous, you could have blinded us,” Hanji scolds, wiping their glasses, but Eren’s laughing like he’s having the time of his life. The sound of it makes Levi smile.

“Don’t paint me, paint the wall,” Levi sniffs. Not ten seconds later and he’s being splashed with paint yet again; before he has time to get annoyed, Eren bubbles with laughter again.

Of course, Levi’s not about to stand down, messy or not, and thus starts a full-fledged war that ends with the three of them covered in more paint than the wall. Because of his white shirt, Eren looks like he’s been in a bloodbath, flecks of paint across his forehead and nose.

“You’re fun when you’re not being all conceal, don’t feel,” Eren informs him and as dumb as it sounds, Levi thinks it’s the most sincere thing anyone’s ever told him. He should do it now, he thinks. He should just ask this fucking brat out and get over himself and admit his big fucking schoolboy crush. He should just let this handyman in on the big secret that Levi’s actually capable of _getting_ crushes.

He chickens out last minute, and Hanji says  “I can’t believe you didn’t ask him out,” like a petulant toddler when Eren leaves. Levi waves a hand to dismiss them, but honestly, he’s mad at himself, too.

~X~

The wall _does_ get painted, in the end, and Levi’s annoyed as shit that he can’t sit in his own living room to indulge himself in _Masterchef_ , what with all the paint fumes giving him a headache, so when there’s a knock on his door, he opens it with more force than strictly necessary.

He isn’t expecting Eren but a part of him is glad when he sees him standing there, blissfully paint-free. Levi’s still finding flecks behind his ear. At least this time he doesn’t look (entirely) like he’s from _The Walking Dead._

“Hey,” Eren says with his usual greeting.

“Yo.”

Eren blushes suddenly, embarrassed about something he hasn’t even said yet.  Levi doesn’t really know where this is going or why Eren’s even here, but he does admit his interest is peaked. “I was wondering if maybe you wanted to -” he swallows, voice starting of with steely bravado but going squeaky at the end. “Maybe go out with me?”

Well fuck, Levi didn’t see that one coming.

His chest does funny things it hasn’t done since Petra Rahl in high school. “You hit your head too hard on that sink” Levi says, mouth dry.

“No, I’m serious,” Eren says, bravado making a grandiose return. “I mean, only if you want to of course.”

Levi doesn’t reply and Eren’s blush returns in full force, spreading to his neck. “I mean, there’s only so many times you can flex for a person before you figure out you have to make the first move, right?” His eyes widen. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Flex,” is all Levi can say, still trying to process Eren’s question.

“Yeah,” Eren pauses. “You didn’t notice?”

“Sorry, I was distracted by the fucking _neon_ in your eyes,” Levi says with a little more sarcasm than he means to.

But all Eren does is grin. “That sounded like an Arctic Monkey’s lyric.”

“What.”

“They’re a band, you’d like them, I bet. They have a show-” he shuffles on his feet. “Concerts make cool first dates, right? My friend Armin’s boyfriend took him for theirs, and I’m not really into doing anything Jean fucking Kirchenstein does, but it seemed like a really good idea, and you-”

“Yeah, alright,” Levi says.

“Wait, really?” Eren brightens considerably. “That’s cool, yeah.”

“Yeah.”

They stare at each other for another few minutes, Levi still trying to figure shit out and Eren looking all too pleased with himself, but in the end numbers are exchanged and Levi stands in his living room for an incredibly long time, deciding that maybe dragging Hanji to Home Depot wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

~X~

(Of course, Hanji’s about as happy as a pig in mud when they catch wind of the great Date, as they take to referring it to, and at the end of it all Levi’s a little grateful shitty glasses is in his life.)


End file.
